


I Want to do this Right

by WhisperingWillows



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Campfires, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reynauld’s hella pent up, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, having to keep quiet, in the second chapter anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingWillows/pseuds/WhisperingWillows
Summary: Reynauld has a bad night at a bar and embarrasses himself and Dismas. Worse, he lets his feelings slip out in the most indignant way possible, but the object of his affections still watched over him while he slept the day away.He wants to do this right, and when Dismas volunteers for first watch shift while camping in a ruins expedition, he decides to help relieve his stress.
Relationships: Dismas/Reynauld (Darkest Dungeon)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve fallen in love with this game! Just finished it not too long ago, and it’s so much fun! I love my two thieving dorks.
> 
> I had a dream where I was playing and it came up that Dismas was trans, so now he’s trans to me.

There he was, far drunker after a night at the bar than he’d ever seen him.. It was a tough mission, sure but he shouldn’t have looked. Reynauld shouldn’t have looked at the prophet’s damned eyes, but he did, and what he saw wasn’t good. He hardly said a word all the way back to the hamlet.

Dismas showed up at the bar to drag him back to the barracks when dawn approached and he still wasn’t back. He hadn’t seen his face before then. That scruffy, messy face that was all plastered on smiles and drunken laughter. He would’ve been impressed he hadn’t thrown up or pissed himself if he wasn’t making such a damn fool out of himself in front of all the other patrons.

“Let’s not tell the boss lady about this,” he asked of the bartender, tossing him a parcel of gold. Dismas considered him a better man than the priests over at the abbey. He at the very least didn’t snitch when one of the heiress’s hired ‘heroes’ embarrasses themselves.

“My friend!” The crusader’s voice boomed across the busy tavern, eyes lit up. “The gentleman thief! Come to tie one on with his companion! Come! Sit with me!”

“Nope. No. You’re coming to bed and taking a break.” He ran an exasperated hand through his hair as he approached and gripped his shoulder. “Get up and let’s go.”

Reynauld laughed a loud, raucous laugh, and what was meant to be a playful slap on the back nearly sent Dismas tumbling to the floor. It took every ounce of self control to not smack him. “Our fair employer paid for me to come here and relieve some stress after our righteous victory! Certainly you can afford to celebrate with me, ah?”

“Maybe tomorrow. After you’ve rested and sobered up. How much have you even had?”

“Mm...Well, if I was to try to estimate, I’d say as many as there are verses in the holy manifest! I could still outdrink any one of these louts here if I so desired.”

“Mm-hm. I, on the other hand, think you’ll drop dead if you have one more drop. I’m not asking. Either you come back with me, or I pull some strings and make sure you aren’t allowed back here. Do you understand me?”

More laughter. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could control his volume. Everyone in the building was staring. If someone told Dismas yesterday he’d have to drag the righteous, devout crusader out of the bar in such a sorry state, he would call them as mad as that prophet. 

Reynauld looked down at his currently empty glass, the gears in his head grinding along slowly. “Alright, friend, I’ll come with you.”

He stood up—and toppled over at the first heavy step. Why was he dealing with this? Why did he care? Dismas groaned as he hauled him off the dirty floor and draped his arm over his shoulder for support. “Why, light above, WHY did you have to come here wearing your forsaken armor?”

Reynauld kept making things more difficult than they had to be as they left the bar. He kept trying to tug him closer, like he didn’t realize he was barely managing to keep both of them remotely upright. Dismas decided to cut through the alley by the tavern to stay out of view. Not like anyone would dare try mugging either of them.

“You’ll join me in my room, won’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s...that’s why you’re taking me back, right? Ha! So forward. I would’ve expected you to be more subtle!”

“You’re hammered. Even if—“ He sighed. “No.”

Once they were out of sight, however, the highwayman was thrown against the side of the building. The air was knocked right out of him, but before he could get another breath in to replace it, Reynauld tore his scarf down and was kissing him. He tasted like cheap ale.

What came next was pure reflex. Dismas punched him in the throat. Not THAT hard, mind you, but certainly hard enough to make him pull away choking and sputtering. Not much else he could’ve done short of shooting or stabbing him with the armor in the way. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you!?”

The look in his eyes...Sheer betrayal. Hurt. Sadness. Reynauld may as well have been a kicked puppy. Dismas didn’t feel bad at all.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...I thought…” He looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry…”  
-  
Reynauld groaned. 

Just the dim light in his room was enough to exacerbate the migraine pounding a hammer against his skull. He remembered bits and pieces of last night. The drinking, then Dismas coming to get him, and—

Oh no.

Maybe he can just pull his thin blanket over his head and sleep until the heiress came to get him for another expedition. When did they actually make it back to the barracks? Had anyone seen him? Not one second of last night was becoming behavior of the reputation he’d spent years building for himself.

An off sound had Reynauld shift to see who else was in the room. Did he sleep in his armor? That explained the other various aches and pains. “Dismas?”

He was cleaning his guns. How long had he been there?

“You’re awake. Feel like shit?”

“I deserve it.”

“Oh, you absolutely do.” He set down his tools and snatched a glass of...something from the windowsill. “Have had this ready for you. Hair of the dog. Should help the headache.”

Without question, the crusader downed the concoction, then subsequently almost threw it back up. Reynauld gagged. “What forsaken drink of the pit is that!?”

“Prairie oyster. Some vinegar, a splash of whiskey, and a whole raw egg.” If it weren’t for the scarf, he’d have caught a hint of a smirk. Dismas was still mad at him, so he didn’t want him to see.

“That’s awful!”

“Well, you’re not thinking about your hangover, now are you?”

Reynauld sighed. He began to unfasten the buckles of different pieces of his armor, starting with his gauntlets. He was wordless. Shameful. He expected Dismas to leave now that he mocked him a little over last night, but he didn’t. After watching him struggle because of his shaky hands, he came over to help.

“You don’t need to—“ 

“Shush. I know I don’t ‘need to’, but I imagine it’s gonna take two hours to get it all off without me. Huh. Are you wearing chainmail under the armor?”

“It’s my hauberk.”

“And what’s under that?”

“My gambeson. It’s, uh, a padded wool shirt. The whole thing gets rather warm.”

“Hm.”

The next moments passed quietly, other than the sounds of other heroes chatting and walking around passing through the thin walls. The armor was stripped down and the ‘hauberk’ removed. As he was taking it off, the undershirt rode up and showed off a thin strip of his waist. Dismas hid a small, surprised sound with a cough.

“Do you know what you told me when I finally dragged you back here?”

“I remember a lot of things I said, all of which I regret, but things got fuzzy after…” He trailed off.

“Yeah, well, I won’t tell anyone about that if you share half of what you snag for ‘tithe’ when you think nobody’s watching you open an abandoned pack.” That got a glare out of Reynauld and a laugh from Dismas. “Ah, anyway...What you said. I practically had to toss you onto the damn mattress, but when I did and tried to leave, you grabbed me and begged me to stay. Said you were terrified of the nightmares. What exactly did you see in those eyes?”

“...Such things beg to be spoken of in a confession booth. They are more equipped to handle the horrors surrounding this estate.”

“Bah! The priests only have to hear about these places second hand while we go down and do the dirty work. I can handle whatever you saw.”

The crusader paused, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Then, he hugged him. It was a loose embrace he could easily get out of, one that only tightened when Dismas, despite his initial discomfort, returned the gesture. “Perhaps I’m not ready to talk about what happened yet. Perhaps I need time, and someone I consider close around.” He stayed with him. Why did he stay? He could’ve stuck around until he passed out, or not have indulged him at all, but no. He stayed all...day?

How long was he actually out? 

“Uh, sure. Sure, I won’t pressure you on this, but I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

That was the end of the matter. Reynauld groaned as he splayed out over his hay filled mattress, pieces of armor clattering over the edge of the frame. “I could sleep for a whole week…It’s a nice sunrise outside, though.”

“Don’t worry, you weren’t out that long. That’s sunset.”


	2. Stress Relief

If anything would attract an ambush, it would be Audrey’s snoring.

Which she had no shame over. Little miss graverobber hardly had any shame over petty habits like that given her namesake, but damn, Dismas hated being grouped with her during these longer expeditions. He volunteered for the first watch, knowing she wouldn’t and that he’d never get any rest around her, anyway.

He thought it’d be boring. He thought he’d just be waiting for someone else to take his place later in the night, but only two of his three other companions actually turned out to be asleep.

At the start of Audrey’s snoring and Junia’s reflexive cuddling of her mace, Reynauld wandered over to make his proposition.

They hadn’t talked much since that night in the tavern. Less out of any ill will held towards each other, but neither of them wanted to own up to the emotional tension brought up in the alley. 

“You’ve taken the brunt by the skeletons. Those condemned couriers certainly ganged up on you, didn’t they?” He tried to be subtle about what he intended to ask. “And now you deny yourself a chance at rest. I know you must be feeling the pressure after a bad day like this. If you’re not careful with yourself, I fear what the stress could do to your mind.”

He’d tried to assure him he was fine. 

‘We’ll be done tomorrow.’

‘I’ve lived through worse and I’ll live through this. Probably.’

‘I snuck a flask in my jacket. Stress relief in a bottle.’

Though that last one visibly bothered him. The crusader hadn’t had a drop of drink since the incident. 

It turns out, flirting properly came hard to him. Being subtle or sly or seductive was even more difficult, culminating in a number half blurted out sentences that couldn’t get the point across. He wondered if Dismas could hear his heart pounding through the layers of his armor. The highwayman seemed to understand where he was trying to go anyway, suddenly hopping to his feet.

“Well, nightwatch is something I should be taking more seriously! I’m...going to sit over...there. More prone to a sudden attack right specifically there. Good talk—“

“Wait.” The ensuing silence was thick enough to cut through. The graverobber had even shifted enough in her sleep to stall her snoring. 

“For what happened...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight and I not only humiliated myself, but someone I cared about.” Things were so simple with *her*. He never stuttered, or faltered in his words or gestures. Things stopped being simple the moment he was conscripted, and became even less so when he took the job at the hamlet. 

“I want to do this right.” He removed his helmet and carefully set it against the wall.

Something about those words lead to the sort of ‘stress relief’ Reynauld had in mind. 

Reynauld who (usually) preferred a week of prayer or meditation at the end of stressful expeditions over revelry at the tavern. Who frequently bonded with Junia over verses. Before the incident, he came off as...prudish maybe?

Being pressed against the wall now, as far away from their sleeping companions as was safe, mouths pressed aggressively to each others’...That was mutual pining and now confirmed sexual tension come to a head. Damn, that scruffy face looked good, especially with the way the red in his cheeks was illuminated by the somewhat distant campfire.

“We gotta be quiet,” Dismas warned in the short bursts their lips were apart. “I’m not scared of a lecture from the nun, but Audrey’s never going to let us live this down if she catches us. She’ll tell the whole hamlet about us while she’s at it, too.”

“I’ll be good,” he promised. Then he smiled reassuringly, and the highwayman felt his heart skip a beat. Light above, it’s been a long, long time since he felt this kind of affection for someone. Another thing they had in common, apparently. They had a lot in common; ironic considering their backgrounds. A criminal and a knight in shining armor. It’s like one of those dorky stories the vestal wrote in that journal of hers. 

Taking advantage of the way that grin distracted him, Dismas swore under his breath as Reynauld’s mouth drifted lower. His scarf was tucked down to gain access to his neck. “Yes, I’ll be good. Such is my duty. You, on the other hand.” His breath and facial hair tickled against the skin. That and the way he had to bend over so his tall frame could compensate for his shorter companion nearly made him laugh. He didn’t, though, out of necessity to keep his volume down, and a lingering concern it could make him seem weak. “I worry about you.”

He didn’t think he wasn’t going to be the one in charge, though it made sense in some way, he supposed. The ones that appeared most dedicated to the light were always the most repressed people he’d ever met. His sturdy, armored hands eventually moved from his sides to his thighs, and he lifted him up like he weighed nothing. It took considerable effort to not make a VERY unmanly sound as he coiled his legs around his waist as Reynauld pressed himself against him to keep the highwayman pinned to the wall.

It’s not like he was short! Just that he was the size of a damn tower!

“Mm...Thought this might be better when you didn’t reek like beer, but now you taste like old bread and oversalted meat.”

“Quiet that tongue, you heretic!”

Dismas snorted, which he quickly stifled by clasping his hand over his mouth. They were silent until they were sure no attention was attracted.

“A heretic, am I?” He smiled with scarred lips. “Then it’s such a shame I’ve been caught by one of the light’s most fearsome soldiers. I can only wonder what torments await me.” The hairs on the back of his neck rose as his buckle was hastily undone yet carefully set down so it wouldn’t clang against the stone floor. 

In the hamlet, nobody cared who people shagged as long as kids were out of the picture. Likewise, nobody cared about identity. The few town residents, the heroes, and the heiress just wanted folks to pull their weight. That’s what mattered. Still, the highwayman didn’t tell many about this part of himself, yet Reynauld knew what to expect. Dismas was one of the few he trusted with that information.

And hey, they didn’t have lube easily available. He wouldn’t have agreed to this if the only hole he had couldn’t get wet.

“Crusaders such as I are ordained by high orders to punish those deserving. However, perhaps I can be persuaded that you are a redeemable soul.” His pants were tugged down with one hand, and his legs twitched at the cold, leather tips of Reynauld’s gloves prodding him.

“Damn, how is it so freezing?”

“Ssh. You’re reacting well to it.”

Which was true. He could feel himself getting slick under his ministrations. Dismas wondered how long it’s been since his knight in shining armor got laid. He never checked into the brothel.

He said he wanted to do this right. So he was going slow. Gentle. He could feel his chest rise and fall through the armor as every little huff and restrained shift riled the crusader up. Getting himself loosened was plenty more difficult than letting go of a pair of pants, but at least it was entertaining to watch.

“Been awhile?”

“Contrary to popular belief, men of my standing aren’t so desirable.” That was a lie. Many soldiers had been unfaithful off the field of battle, something Reynauld always detested, but he couldn’t go back to her. Not after everything he’d seen. Everything he’d done. It’s not like he expected this to be a one time deal with Dismas. He wanted something long term. “Why?”

“Because I barely had to do anything to get you harder than a rock.” His tone was teasing. He shut him up with another sudden kiss, but a much more welcome and expected one than in that alley. Calloused hands tangled through salt and pepper hair already messed up by his helmet. He eased inside his companion slowly, both of them quietly shuddering in delight.

“Damn...I did need this. I really, really need this.” His hushed voice cracked. “Hah...you know you can actually move your hips. I’ve got a man in shining armor keeping me stuck to the wall.”

“I’m sorry...you just...look very nice.”

“Ah. Isn’t lying looked down on in your ranks? I’m a bastard with one ugly mug and that’s how I like it—“ damn it, he was getting too good at interrupting him with all this stupid, dumb affection he’d grown to crave. Reynauld moved slow to start, bringing up a hand to cup his partner’s face.

“You are a heretic. Spewing blasphemy about someone so dear to me. How dare you?” His voice was low and rough between quiet pants as he slowly moved inside him. “It’s been awhile. You’re right, and you feel damn good…”

Dismas dug his heels into the other man’s back, head lolling back against the stone walls of the ruins. This isn’t the first time he’s had to keep quiet during sex, but Reynauld clearly hasn’t had the same experiences, and watching his flushed face try not to moan too loud or gasp added a whole other arousing layer to this situation.

He finally drowned the sound out going back his neck, hands drifting to knead his hips. Dismas bucked into the touch and he could feel him grinning. Reynauld kept his hands there to play with the evident sweet spot. He was clearly getting more comfortable with his body. The crusader thrusted deeper, faster, delighting in his hushed swears. He had to stifle his own noise against his skin.

Heat and pleasure built up quick in the highwayman’s stomach. He couldn’t believe how easily he was letting himself be manhandled. He’d have to show him how he could be when in control.

Next time.

Next time? Yes. Next time. He’d like that.

Not that he had much time to dwell on it. The knot in his core tightened quicker than he anticipated, until it snapped. Dismas gripped Reynauld tight with one arm and shoved his free palm into his teeth to keep quiet as he fell apart under the other man’s ministrations. He arched into him. His legs tensed and insides twitched.

Much better stress relief than stale beer in a flask. Definitely.

But then Reynauld pulled out. That face. That scruffy, messy face that was all flustered and looking lovesick. Dismas’s heart rate didn’t ease as he came down from the high. He really, really liked that face.

“H...hey, wait. You didn’t—“ 

“No, I didn’t, but this wasn’t for me. It was for you.” He stepped back and let Dismas cling to him while he found his footing. His legs felt like jelly. “I don’t think we were caught. I can still hear Audrey snoring.” He picked up his helmet and put it back on. “But...it was good? This was good?”

“Be better if we didn’t risk getting caught by a bunch of skeletons. Next time we can use my room, and then you can actually make some noise.” He cracked a smile before tucking his scarf back in place, then he collected his pants. He’d definitely left a mark or two. Best to hide it.

“Next time…” He glanced to the side. “So, you’d want me again, and...I went about this right?”

“You went about a part of it right. You sure you’re okay not finishing? If you need a hand—“

“No, no, really. I’m fine. Something to look forward to next time.” Reynauld rubbed the back of his helmet. “Does this make up for what happened? With the bar and the...alley?”

Dismas sighed. “How about you take over watch a bit early, and we can talk about it when we’re not around a gossip and a nun. But...it’s a start.” It felt strange that the sex came so easy, but opening up and talking about emotions felt impossible. It never ever really felt possible.

He wanted it to feel possible, though.

“I’ll live with that. I’ll live with a start. Do me a favor and get some rest.” Under the helmet, Reynauld smiled sweetly. “I trust you’ll be bright eyed and relaxed tomorrow when we finish the expedition, won’t you?”

“You’re exhausting to deal with. I’m certain I’ll sleep fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed! I really love this game and I’m super excited for DD2 to come out. Comments are appreciated!


End file.
